


the one with the coffee shop

by singingwithoutwords



Series: Imagine Tony and Rhodey [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwithoutwords/pseuds/singingwithoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt from the <a href="http://imaginetonyandrhodey.tumblr.com/">Imagine Tony and Rhodey</a> blog:</p>
<p>After one too many times of Howard trying to control his life, eighteen-year-old Tony runs away and opens a coffee shop in New York. It's hard work, but worth it for the people he gets to meet, especially that ROTC guy who's been coming in every week to flirt with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the one with the coffee shop

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fill for an imagine blog. I'm feeling kind of giddy. Hopefully I did okay. ^^;

The thing about being a genius was that, at least in Tony’s case, it wasn’t limited to one specific thing.  Yes, he’d grown up cultivating his genius in the field of engineering and weapons design, but after ditching that gig at 18, he’d been able to transfer the genius capable of rudimentary AIs to painfully prosaic but actually much more fulfilling areas.  Like baking.  And brewing coffee.  And enough business sense to keep his cramped little shop open.

He’d thought that the best part about telling Howard exactly where to shove his fortune and the future he had planned for his son would be the freedom, and it was at first.  For the first year or so, he woke up every morning to the reminder that everything he did was his own choice.  If he wanted to take one of the industrial coffee machines to his shop out back and blow it up, he could.  If he wanted to eat leftover pasta for breakfast, he could.  If he wanted to operate on a schedule that included going to bed at 10pm and waking up at 4am, no one was going to stop him.

But after that first year, he found his opinion changing.

It started with the Pirate.  Tony was fairly certain he wasn’t an actual sea-faring pirate, but come on: the dude wore a black leather trench coat and an eyepatch every time he came in, and his name was  _Nick Fury_.  He had a glare that could peel paint at two miles and the smuggest smirk Tony had ever seen outside a mirror.  He always ordered the darkest dark roast in the biggest size Tony carried and drank it black and unsweetened, and he gave very generous tips, monetary and otherwise.

Then there were the Professors, a couple of nerdy egghead scientists named Bruce and Betty, who never ordered the same thing twice and spent hours at the corner table talking science.  Tony joined them when business was slow and ‘forgot’ to charge them for extra cookies.

And, of course, there was the Stud.  James Rhodes, ROTC who wanted to be a pilot.  He was ridiculously hot, with a ridiculous buzzcut and ridiculous voice and ridiculous laugh, and he flirted ridiculously, with the cheesiest pickup lines Tony had ever heard, his own included.  He came in every day at exactly 5:54am, ordered a dark roast and a pastry, stood at the counter flirting while he finished both, then sauntered out nice and slow so Tony could get his daily eyeful of that magnificent ass.

Tony was halfway certain he was in love.

Betty said of course he was, would he just ask the guy out already and get laid?  Bruce said it was none of Betty’s business, could they get back to their research or would she rather play matchmaker until their deadline passed?  Fury said he was a customer, not Tony’s uncle, now where’s his damn coffee?

Useless, the lot of them.

One year, four months, and seventeen days after the first time Rhodey - Rhodes was too formal and there were too many Jameses in the world - had sauntered into Tony’s life, Rhodey showed up an hour late and stood awkwardly at the counter, shifting his weight from foot to foot and clearing his throat.

“Can I help you?” Tony asked, messing around with the display case of tea to keep from outright fidgeting.

“Maybe,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat again.  “Are you open for lunch?”

“I’m always open for you, hot stuff,” Tony said automatically.

“That’s a tempting thought, but right now I’m interested in lunch.  And taking you.  To lunch.  Taking you to lunch, not ‘taking you’ taking you.”  It was hard to tell sometimes with his skintone, but Tony was pretty sure Rhodey was blushing.  “Dammit.  I’m making an ass of myself, aren’t I?”

“A bit of one,” Tony agreed, grinning.  From the way his face felt, Rhodey wasn’t the only one blushing.  “How about we start with lunch, and discuss the whole you taking me thing at a later date?”

“Sounds like a plan.  Pick you up at noon?”

“On the dot.  Don’t be late, soldier.”

“Never,” Rhodey promised, pausing to glance around the shop and at the door before leaning over the counter and planting a quick one on Tony before beating a hasty retreat.

Tony closed the shop for the day, on account of no way could he concentrate on coffee after that kiss.  Fury was not happy.


End file.
